


In Another Life

by MixedBreedMaiya



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Chaptered, Danger, Discrimination, Emotional, F/M, Post-Game, Racism, Tragedy, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2572232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MixedBreedMaiya/pseuds/MixedBreedMaiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if some didn't survive the final battle? What if some were never even part of the group? Due to an odd accident a few years after the end of the first journey, Regal Bryant finds himself thrown into a sick and twisted mirror image of the reunited world, in which all of the peace and optimism he knows is but a laughable dream. He must understand and learn to cope with this What-If World and enlist the help of Raine's jaded counterpart to get home. [Ignores Dawn; assumes Colette's ending.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Another Life

**Author's Note:**

> Brand new place to post fanfiction? o_o Yes, please.
> 
> Raine: Martel in heaven, why?!
> 
> Martel must like me more than you do.
> 
> Raine: There is no one who could possibly do otherwise, my dear, I assure you.
> 
> ...Say, Raine, has it occurred to you that we're actually almost the same age now?
> 
> Raine: Don't remind me. Just get to your derivative nonsense and leave me alone.
> 
> xD Yeah, while I let that set in... Hi, AO3! I'm very happy to meet everyone, and grateful to the creators and admins of the site. As my first work here, I'm going to go ahead and repost an in-progress fic I have up on fanfiction.net (same penname, yes). I'll get some new works up here, too, but in the mean time...why not test the waters with something familiar? I hope to make some new friends hereabouts, and maybe reach a wider audience. So, without further ado...
> 
> My special thanks go out to  
> God, the source of my talent and passion;  
> The readership I have on fanfiction.net;  
> Namco;  
> The various people with whom I've had the opportunity to explore this concept and flesh it out;  
> And Raine, who's with me no matter what website I crash!

It was rather nice, he decided, even refreshing, to walk into a lively town and…more or less fade into the background. In Palmacosta he was as well-recognized a figure as in his own beloved island state of Altamira; in Meltokio, naturally, his face was widely known to most, including the very the sentries who watched the city gates and were inevitably bound to witness his arrival; Ozette knew him by his ties to Presea and the support he had been able to offer for its recovery. In fact, it was unlikely that any settlement in the entire world—rather, country—of Tethe’alla _wouldn’t_ know him in some respect, or on some level. But here, in Luin? He was simply another visitor.  
How novel.  


With all the courtesy bespeaking his noble upbringing, one Regal Bryant offered a good-natured nod to the man standing at the inland end of the bridge connecting the easternmost of Luin’s little cluster of islands to the rest of the continent. There were no guards on the outer edge, and only one—he guessed—at each of the two accesses, which was a great discrepancy between the quiet so-named City of Rebirth and the grand “feats of civilization” to which he was accustomed in his own native lands. In fact, as he passed by the only simply-clad sentry, his keener tendencies of analysis could not help but think (with no small influence from his own experience in Palmacosta) that towns such as these seldom had guards at all. Perhaps it was a formality, something for show; though he had to say, the village’s charm did not lie in any apparent pomp or ceremony. If he was completely honest, in fact, he might say it was quite the opposite.  


Regal allowed his fingers to thread together behind his back as his eyes trailed unhurriedly over this brief stop on his cross-country trek. What little luggage he had actually prepared for this trip, preferring indeed to travel light when abroad like this, had preceded him here. Presumably, it awaited his arrival at the inn; but he was in no rush. He could have easily circumvented Luin altogether, but it had been far too long since he had seen this reconstructed city, and he had spent very little time here even then. No, he wanted to see it in its entirety. In a way, it was almost a model for the Palmacosta Project. Both cities’ revivals stood testaments to Sylvarant’s resilience. If Luin could do it, all the more must the country’s capital. He had not seen the full extent of the damage suffered at the hands of the Desians, but he knew the stories. Perhaps he could even find a bit of inspiration for the port city while he was here.  


A very small, absent-minded smile settled upon his features, and he paused for a moment to watch the impromptu scene play out around him. Against the backdrop of small, cozy houses made of wood and stone, children chased one another, families walked together, shopkeepers dusted their windows cheerfully. There was a quiet hum of laughter and easy conversation hovering over slate-colored rooftops; it seemed to be, in its own right, a paradise of sorts. Regal was rather sorry he had not made a point of spending some time here long before. Small towns had always held for him a unique charm; it was why he cherished Altamira in its off-seasons, when the weather was a little a cooler, and the tourist trade was stalled to leave only the permanent residents to go about their own quiet lives. Luin almost reminded him of the island—though it lacked the glitter and glamor the resort could never entirely shake even in its quietest moments. Altamira was a true city; Luin was a town. And he was fairly certain he had fallen for both.  


As a young boy tripped nearby and tumbled to the grass beside the smooth, cobblestoned pathway, instinct made his fingers twitch in the rising impulse to act. Not a split second passed, however, before the child was pounced upon by a barking, wagging-tailed monster of a dog. Peals of laughter split the air while the boy and his best friend rolled about together. Regal hung back for an instant just to watch the careless fun. The laughter was contagious; as he finally turned away to resume his stroll, it was with a chuckle teasing his throat and no less of a smile than before. Yes, he thought, he was glad he had come.  


He carefully stepped out of the way of several more stampeding children and headed down toward the nearby bridge leading to another of the little islands. If he recalled correctly, it held the town’s fresh market, as well as the mayor’s residence. He was told there had been a tiny chapel, little more than an altar, but he was not certain whether it had been included in the reconstruction or not. The religious state of the world as a whole was…complicated. Sylvarant did seem to be faring a little better on that front, no doubt thanks to Colette’s ever-steady faith. Still, time would tell just how much the theology of Martel would change—most of the world did not know all that he and the others did, but there was only so much ignorance the people could retain. For one thing, two formerly separate worlds had been thrust back together, and the entire Chosen system was null and void. Many changes, indeed… They all had their work cut out for them.  


Speaking of the others… Regal paused as he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. The grin that followed could not be restrained, and he paused again to look over the statue outside the armory. Sheena Fujibayashi, read the plaque below. Ahh, the blush a single mention of this marvelous likeness provoked. Young Sheena, immortalized in honorable stone. He shook his head and pressed on, though his thoughts wandered a little further to the rest of the old group. The “Heroes of Regeneration,” they were collectively called. He was only glad that people tended to opt for his more…normal title in routine encounters.  


Hmm. Sheena ‘s statue was near the armory. If he recalled correctly, there were two other statues in this lovely, little town: Lloyd Irving presided over the fountain on the other side of the city, and the infamous Professor Sage—didn’t she have her own monument around here somewhere as well?  


Now intrigued, he determined to see each of these statues up close. Feelings of nostalgia and fond memories of his old colleagues had been stirred up. It was only too bad he could see only stone images, instead of the colorful characters themselves. Ah, well. Maybe soon, he mused to himself. Perhaps a reunion… He ought to, at the least, send out a few letters—aha. There it was, the gracefully outlined form of Raine Sage.  


His mouth twitched a little, but despite the amusement in his eyes, there was a certain admiration there, too. Lovely in person, lovely in stone, just like Sheena. There she stood, feet planted, face uplifted, staff stretched out in the stance of a true healer. More than once, that firecracker of a woman had saved their lives—and countless others besides. Quite something, that one; _mystery >/em> was only one of the many words to describe her._  


Regal stepped off of the bridge and out of the way of anyone else who might want to actually continue on their way instead of staring at stonework like a common tourist; but he was rather enjoying this sightseeing, even if he did look silly. He trailed his eyes along the well-tended monument from the tip of the staff, all the way down toward the plaque, the message of which he was curious to read. What met those eyes at the base of the statue, however, stalled him. He actually had to lbink a few times, lest his mind be playing tricks on him. But the sight did not clear, and he had no choice but to believe the unlikely, ironic, and rather comical image before him.  


Where the carven woman stood upon a rectangular base, raised a few feet from the grass below, there sat its twin, its very model, leaning back against the inanimate leg with one of her own drawn up toward her chest and a book cradled in one hand. She looked quite cozy in this little nook, out of the way and so easy to miss in passing glance. But to the careful observer…it would provoke a smile.  


Of course, it helped that he had been reminiscing over his old friends, and now one had presented herself right to him. Some coincidences were quite fortunate.  


Regal had to take a moment further just to absorb the young woman; while her face was absolutely unmistakable, particularly sitting as she was against her own sculpted image, the two years that had passed since the Regeneration had produced subtle changes in her, as he was certain they had in them all. For one thing, to see the elder Sage without her younger half was unusual, as far as he knew from experience, but she was indeed quite alone. Her appearance, too, had seen a few slight modifications that he took in more carefully as he finally began his yet-unnoticed approach. The slacks and plain tan shirt certainly fit his image of her, but her hair had lengthened a bit, the style had changed, and as he reached the statue and rested his hand against it, she was very absent-mindedly pinning the straight, soft strands out of her face so she could keep reading.  


“Comfortable in the company of oneself, I see,” he quipped. …A pun worthy of Zelos. He ought to be ashamed.  


Familiar violet eyes blinked, and he could actually see the shift in her mindset from page to present moment. Raine lifted her head, brow arched and a response on her lips—but it died when she actually met his gaze, and it seemed her turn to be surprised. She sat up straighter and closed her book gently on one finger. “Regal,” she greeted. She allowed the foot propped on her seat to slide off, crossing one leg over the other instead in a dignified, but not formal, position. Her eyes flicked upward, though, as she evidently caught onto his less than inspiring joke. “Sometimes it’s quieter that way.” Her voice was dry and her face coy, as always, when she looked back at him.  


Part of a smile hinted at the corner of his mouth; at least she had had the good graces to humor him in his rusty wit. “It’s nice to see you again, Raine.” A glance downward. “I apologize for interrupting.” He nodded gently toward her book. He had almost leaned against the statue himself, but somehow the idea seemed…odd, given its design. Instead, he came around to her other side to rest lightly on the adjacent fence.  


Raine shook her head and finally set her book aside entirely, resting it atop the folds of what appeared to be an overcoat of sorts draped over the stone beside her. It was of different colors than her signature ensemble of two years past, and it seemed to have some stylistic differences, but evidently she was fond of the general look. Interesting. “It’s alright,” she replied easily, and gave him a bit of a sideways glance. “I am rather surprised to see you, though.”  


“As am I. I didn’t expect to find any of our old group here, least of all you. Though I’m not certain why,” the man added after a thoughtful beat. “You have as much reason to be here as I do—likely more.” Regal shifted positions a little to make himself more comfortable. He had slipped very much out of his _Duke Bryant_ persona, the mask he was forced to wear in business dealings and matters of the court—in other words, far too often. While he was not a man who could be entirely undignified, simply by nature, even he had levels of formality to his public and private behaviors. Coming to such a homey town where his name and face meant nothing more than any other traveler’s, and then running into such familiar (welcome) company after two years of filling his role, had coaxed him into a somewhat unwitting release of a few taut strings of composure. “Are you here with your brother?” he asked politely.  


Again, she shook her head. “Actually, Genis is in Iselia with Lloyd and Colette, visiting Dirk and the rest of the village.”  
/p>

He arched his brow. “You’ve seen them?” he asked in pleased surprise. It only served to remind him how painfully long it seemed to have been since his last interaction with pleasantly familiar people, as well as a striking proof of just how fond he had grown of the other seven “Heroes.”  


Raine offered half of a smile as she rested one hand atop her knee and allowed the other palm to flatten against the stone and support her. “Briefly. Genis and I happened to visiting when the two of them showed up, and we spent some time together. I received a letter from Pietro asking me to come here, however—so I thought I’d let the three of them get caught up while I took care of that. What are _you_ doing here? I wouldn’t think Palmacosta or Altamira would have much to do with Luin.”  


Regal took his gaze from the deceptively petite woman to cast it around the city. “I am here neither as a representative nor a businessman, but a simple and humble tourist,” he chuckled.  


“Mm. I suppose a man who owns- and lives in his own resort would pick a place like this for holiday.”  


He offered another quiet laugh. “Yes, I suppose so.” When he set his eyes back upon her, it was not without a subtle hint of scrutiny and appraisal. “You look lovely—if you will allow me to say so,” he added, unable to escape that particular courtesy. He was well aware of her apparent aversion to such compliments.  


Predictably, her mouth twitched a little, though he would have bet it came more out of embarrassment than irritation. “Thank you, but I don’t look _that_ different, do I?” The lake breeze, at that moment, impishly tousled her hair and very strikingly emphasized just how different it _did_ look, now that she had let it fall freely, and he was looking straight at her. It by no means made her a whole new person, but it was a marked discrepancy all the same. And the irritation that did manifest in another attempt to brush it out of her way did nothing to dissuade his growing smile.  


“You do look different, but even if you didn’t, my statement would stand; you were lovely the day I met you, and you are lovely now.” He spoke sincerely, and without the presumptuous flavor that would ride such words had they issued from the lips of a certain red-headed Chosen. He was not trying to allure, charm, or seduce; merely pay a true compliment to an old friend who so peculiarly resisted them.  


Her face was flat and no-nonsense, though, ever the stony professor—no pun intended this time. So, instead of pressing that particular subject, he shifted his query accordingly.  


“You said…Pietro asked you here?” he echoed, back to being curious. He had heard the story surrounding the man he had met only very briefly. “Is something wrong?”  


Raine arched her back inward a little as she herself shifted positions. “Apparently, local farmers have been reporting odd incidents near the Tower of Mana’s ruin. The old Asgard Human Ranch is in that area, too, so it’s rattled several nerves. Since both the Tower and the Ranch rely heavily on magitechnology…” She trailed off, gesturing vaguely, and he nodded in understanding.  


“Have you done any investigation so far? Is there any merit to these reports?”  


“Well, I looked around the remnants of the Ranch, but it truly is nothing but scorched rubble. Whatever the problem is—if there is one—it isn’t there.”  


“That is good news, at least,” he admitted. Anyone fooling around with the Desians’ legacy did not sound like a good idea.  


“It is. I’m going to check the Tower tomorrow. It’s probably nothing—my guess would be superstitious paranoia and new sights and experiences people just haven’t had. No one has been in those areas for some time due to the Desians, and with the Temple of Light half-crumbled, they are bound to witness things they don’t understand.” Raine shrugged gently. “But it would be good to make sure. If nothing else, it will put the people of Luin at ease and protect the agriculture in this region.”  


Not for the first time in their acquaintanceship, he felt a small surge of admiration. It was difficult to remember, sometimes, that she _was_ so young. Certainly she was a grown woman in every sense, but her eloquence was still nothing short of extraordinary. And charming. “Good idea.” Something occurred to him, though, and his good-humor faded a little. “…How far do you plan to go in?” All of the Temples had suffered great damage during the events of the reunification, but Sylvarant’s had taken the brunt of the destruction. The Tower of Mana would not be in stable condition; was it really safe to be poking around?  


“As far in as I have to go to be satisfied that this anxiety is based in nothing but ghost stories and gossip.” Raine paused as well and raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”  


“I just find it disquieting to think of you—or anyone—going into such a place alone,” he replied honestly. Before she could take offense, he continued: “If you would like, I, too, am curious to know about whatever is going on here; and I’ve been sitting in an office for far too long. I would be more than happy to go along.”  


She sat back again, slowly, and eyed him for a moment. “It’s probably not going to be terribly interesting.”  


He shrugged gently and straightened up. “I did come to see the sights of Luin, and that includes such attractions as the Tower of Mana. After all, I have only seen it once, and in very little detail. I would also count it a privilege,” he added a little wryly, “if you would indulge me for a while. It’s been too long since I’ve had the pleasure of a friend’s company. I would like the chance to, as you said, ‘catch up’ with you.”  


Raine was quiet again, but she finally quirked the tiniest, dryly amused smile as she stood up and gathered her things. Her book held against her ribcage and her coat draped over her forearm, she looked up at him. “Since you put it that way,” she mused, “if you’d like to come along, I won’t stop you. It might be nice to have conversation, anyway.”  


Regal dipped his head, feeling rather accomplished—and pleased. “Good. I won’t keep you any longer; I do have more to see within city limits before I venture out into the wilds.”  


“Indeed.” As she turned to go, shaking her head, she paused to glance back at him. “…Be careful near the fountain. There tend to be quite a few children running about playing _Lloyd the Great_ —occasionally they even add _all the rest_. They’re about as difficult to stop as their idol. And welcome, Lord Bryant, to the heart of Sylvarant.”  


He watched her retreating back until she had vanished from view, bemused. Her sense of humor was so…fascinatingly unpredictable. She was formal and collected, but she did have a sharp wit…not to mention a sharp tongue, which he had experienced indirectly many a time and hoped, quite honestly, never to experience first-hand. Chuckling softly, he turned to go his own way.  


Yes. He was glad he had come. He did have to wonder about the Tower of Mana, though, and this new mystery surrounding it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, everyone. I hope you enjoyed it and continue to enjoy the rest of it.
> 
> Raine: How...are we nearly the same age...?
> 
> Well. Technically, it's been, like, three years by the time of this story - so you have a little while before I catch up entirely. :P
> 
> Raine: -.-'


End file.
